I came to Substack after my mum died. I was a writer who’d stopped writing my own words. I’d lost my voice. Mum was my first reader, my collaborator, my compass. Losing her was like losing a part of myself; the one person I had trusted without question.
For about a year I didn’t even know why I was on Substack. I didn’t get it. I started by writing about grief but it felt like screaming into a dark tunnel with a faint hope someone would hear.
I saw a call-out on Notes from Claire Venus ✨ and Emma Simpson that they’d be in London for a Podcast recording with Farrah @Substack and Emma Gannon and did anyone want to meet for dinner beforehand? I was still fragile and recovering from pneumonia. I hardly recognised the person I had become, but I went anyway.
The dinner could have been awkward, strangers around a table, but there was gentle laughter and the spark of recognition. I left with an idea lingering in my heart: what if I could create a space like this, where writers could meet, speak and inspire one another? Claire had set up a WhatsApp group to connect everyone, then graciously left, saying, “You should all meet up again.” But life is busy, nothing happened straight away, but the seed was sown.
A few weeks later I was asked to speak on stage at a brand launch for a big national organisation. I’d co-created their brand playbook and values and even though I said “yes”, I was in a panic. Once upon a time, I could walk into a room or step onto a stage in front of thousands, but the scars of grief and illness had left me feeling like am imposter. I delivered the speech, got away with it, but I knew I needed to do better.
I listened to Viv Groskop’s How to Own the Room. The idea to start small, practice, create platforms landed with me. I could do that; I’d done it many times before. So, on the day my littlest started school, I started something new too, Julia Cameron’s The Artist’s Way, and that changed everything.
I’d sometimes been a little snooty about gurus, thinking, Why do you need people to tell you what to do? Figure it out yourself. Through therapy and my morning pages, it dawned on me; my mum had been my personal 24/7 self-help book. She was my guide. Her gnawing absence cut into me, but it also opened a doorway. Perhaps this was the time to rediscover me—not as daughter, wife, mother, or collaborator—but as myself.
I’d decided to try and think of a way to bring writers together, because I needed something. I took to my morning pages many, many times to work this out, to explore ways of doing it. I tested the waters, I put it on Notes, sent DMs, emails and texts to people on Substack who were in or around London to see if they were interested in coming.
And that’s how I became a Substack Meet Up Host. It’s transformed my life over the last year, maybe it’s the element you’ve been searching for too?
Here’s some of my tips for organising a Meet Up…
Is anyone else already doing it?
Get started by doing a bit of research and reach out to others in the space or people you’d like to collaborate with. In London, for example, there are multiple meet ups:
Michaella Parkes and Lex Hearth host Writers IRL in Central and East London. They offer a mix of fireside chats, open mics and panel discussions in cosy bookshops and chic bars.
Nika Talbot hosts the Writers’ Cafe in Hastings with Katie Lee on Tuesdays and Thursdays 3-5pm upstairs at Barnaby’s Lounge for co-writing.
And I noticed on Notes Sasha Neal is starting a new coffee morning in South London.
Louise Morris who runs LiveStack - Lou curates a directory of in-person events in the UK to keep an eye on.
And I host the monthly West London Substack Writers Meet Ups and you’re always welcome to drop in at 7pm usually on a Monday by Hammersmith Bridge.
Reciprocity is at the heart of community. If I see someone else is doing something in or around London I share it.
If you’re planning a meet up, share it in the comments.
Finding a venue
I like spaces that feel welcoming, are comfortable and have good public transport links. Make a list of possible venues and reach out to them. Can you reserve a space, is it private or semi-private, is there a minimum spend or do you have to put down a deposit? Find out what food and drink options there are too.
Go and visit, and chat to them about what you’d like to do. Ask what day and time would work for them. If you’re hoping to meet there regularly it’s good to ask questions and set expectations. Think about how many people you’re hoping for. When I first started my goal was to get to 20 people and then when I did, it was too many and I capped it at 12. Too many people can make conversation harder; too few can feel intimidating.
Find out if the space has:
Disabled access?
What are the loos like?
Does it have natural light or a cosy corner?
Does it have Wi-Fi?
All these touches can help people feel at ease.
We meet in an Arts venue that’s flexible. I book a cosy space for our open mic and a long table in the window for drinks and chatting. They’re flexible on numbers, have good access, you can have dinner, nibbles or just a drink.
To charge or not to charge?
Hosting a meet up doesn’t have to be complicated or expensive. Community centres, cafés with private rooms, or co-working spaces are easy to book and often come with chairs, tables and refreshments. Weekday rates are usually cheaper. Public parks and gardens in good weather could work for a picnic, or your local library or community might let you have a space for free if you explain it’s a creative Meet Up or at a reduced rate.
Consider whether you want to include something in the price of the ticket, or whether people will choose and pay for what’s right for them. You could encourage attendees to bring their own refreshments if it’s in a public space or keep the Meet Up conversation focused if it’s in a library.
A small fee not only helps cover costs it signals value. Be transparent about what the fee covers. Free events can still be supported by voluntary contributions—a jar at the venue or a link for donations, some attendees may even give more and pay it forward for others.
My events are non-refundable, and I charge a fee because otherwise people often don’t turn up or cancel at the last minute and that’s a waste of time, energy and money. See what feels right for you, and the test it.
Choosing a date and time
Consider your audience – Think about when most attendees are likely to be free. e.g. Weekday evenings or weekend afternoons.
Consistency helps – I’d recommend giving people 3–4 weeks’ notice for promotion, and consider recurring meet ups (monthly or quarterly).
Check conflicts – Look for other meet ups, events, or holidays that might clash.
Duration – 1–2 hours is usually enough for meaningful conversation without tiring people out.
Buffer time – Give yourself extra time before and after the meet up for setup, greeting attendees and packing up. It makes the event feel relaxed, not rushed.
Who is it for?
Thank you to Emma Simpson Ruth Cooper-Dickson Lauren Powell Eva Lydon 🌿 Kate Harvey Kate Darracott Rohini Contractor and Shruti Advani who all came to my first meet up. I wanted to do a social with an open mic, which though that’s nothing new for writers, it was kinda new for Substack Londoners. You want to be clear on what the focus of the meet up.
One-third of attendees to our West London Meet Ups are always new. And Although some of us are traditionally published authors, you don’t need a publishing credit to come. You don’t even need to know Substack yet. Curiosity, honesty and presence are what matters most when it comes to making community connections. Every voice is welcome.
Since then we’ve welcomed Hannah Ashe Joanna Milne 🏺 Alexandra Sara Emily Heather Riverside Rambling Rebecca Mack ☕ Holly Bailie (she/her) Océane Meftah Georgina Pearson Tom Wentworth Steph Morris Kevin O’Brien Helen Morris Jessica Montoya Aranan’s Substack Chris Summers Louise Morris Milena Bettie Honc Bring The A-Game Ingrid Fernandez I'll decide later Melina Cavella and more.
Solo hosting or co-hosting
Do you need a co-host. If you live somewhere there aren’t many Substackers, is there a city an hour away people often travel to that you could congregate in? If there’s a collective of you, test it out, and see how it is co-hosting or taking it in turns at different locations. Set up some general rules that the host will:
Arrive early to set up and greet attendees
Start with a warm welcome and introductions
Facilitate discussions, prompt participation, and keep energy positive
Wrap up with gratitude, clear next steps or follow up links
Your alchemy
Every meet up has its own pulse, shaped by the people, the space and even the weather (it rains in London quite often). I realised early on that hosting is about working from your own strengths, your own experiences and your own connections. How I host is right for me, but you’ll have your own skills and style.
I like to host, I work in communications and it shows in how I greet, guide and listen. But each meet up is different. The formula isn’t me—the formula is the people, and creating a space where they can be vulnerable and feel heard.
My secret is I shape the meet ups around five emotional needs that my mum, Sarah Beeson MBE, championed in her parenting guide Happy Baby, Happy Family. Adults needs aren’t so different, so, when I plan I ask myself:
How do I help people feel safe enough to share vulnerability? (Security and responsibility)
How do I create connection, not performance? (Love)
How do I balance welcoming new guests with honouring those who return? (Mew experiences)
How do I include constructive feedback especially for those sharing their work? (Praise and recognition)
Getting the word out
How do you invite people in. Well there’s Notes, but again can feel very hit and miss. Get started by posting on your:
Substack newsletter: post details with RSVP link
Social media: Notes, Instagram, Twitter/X, LinkedIn
Community groups: writing clubs and libraries
Engage your audience: say what you’re planning to do and start conversations
Use your local networks, and focus on the quality of the connection not the numbers. After your meet up send a thank you email and ask for feedback and share photos and a write up in a post and on Notes.
Expect Changes
Hosting meet ups made me brave. I doubt I would have started running writers’ circles and retreat days without them. Being seen, witnessing others, the joy of creating space—this has reconnected me with my voice and purpose. It’s stronger now than ever before.
The magic isn’t me—it’s the writers, the readers, the people who love words who come to listen. I create the space and the room fills with stories, laughter and beautiful connections.
Why community matters
Even as publishers wrestle with engagement, meet ups and independent platforms show another path—community matters more than ever. Readers and writers are seeking connection, conversation and continuity. A newsletter can spark attention, but a community keeps it burning.
After a year of Substack meet ups I’ve seen how shared words and spaces transform people’s relationships with others, but also themselves and their craft. Finding your people, is magical.
Looking ahead: 2026
Dates for 2026 Substack Writers Meet Ups are live. From January 2026, the circles will also be available online. Writers from anywhere in the world can join for insight and encouragement across time zones. Get in touch if you’re interested in joining.
I’m also opening a limited number of 1:1 sessions as part of my founding membership, a chance to work directly with me, reflect on your writing, personal brand story or developing communications.
Do you feel inspired to go to a meet up or organise one? Let me know.
Love
Amy x
